Of Demons and Dragons
by Oceanus Biddle
Summary: Minecraft oneshot on the backtory of Steve, as well as Alex, the newer Minecraft character. Rated K plus for violence and intense scenes. .-. (First time writing some form of suspense, so don't immediately think it's terrible.)


****Of Demons and Dragons****

**By: Oceanus Biddle**

* * *

_I can remember my home as if it were just yesterday. The tall, towering walls of the kingdom I grew up in, my mother's smiling face, among other things. Life was perfect until __**He**_ _came..._

* * *

My father had just gotten home from the mines, his overalls covered with grime and dry, caked-on dirt. My mother was in the kitchen of our house, fixing supper for that night.

"Honey, I'm hooome!" My father called in his deep, bellowing voice.

My mother popped her head out of the doorway, and grinned. "Oh, dear, welcome home!" she chirped in a sing-song manner.

She looked over at the window and out to where I was playing tag with all the other village children, one of them being a friend of mine who was named Alex. She had ginger hair that was always in a braid down the back, and she always wore a green tunic with brown trousers and black boots.

"Steven!" My mother called. All of us looked over at her, and she giggled. "Time for supper, dearest!"

I sighed. "But Mom!" I whined. "Just five more minutes?"

She gave me a small smile, and shook her head. "Honey, your friends will be here tomorrow," she replied, her dark hair blowing in the summer breeze. "Come on inside, wash up and eat."

* * *

I wake up on a beach, face down in the sand. My head hurts as I lift my face from the grainy shore, wiping it off with my hand.

"Yeesh," I mutter, holding my head. "What in Notch's name happened?" I look around, and see planks of wood floating on the water behind me. Shipwrecked.

* * *

Dinner was especially good that night, since my mother had gotten some mushrooms for soup from one of the traveling merchants that rolled through every once in a while. They always had large noses that hung down in front of their mouths, and they wouldn't trade for anything but emeralds, which were rather hard to come by. They also made strange noises when they sighed, and I remember that their eyes were always the brightest green I'd ever seen.

My mother and father asked me how my day at school was, and I shrugged and said it was alright. Nothing really much learned other than reading and writing, and the times tables and such.

My father told us how they had found a enormous diamond vein, and my mother's eyes lit up.

"Oh, Geralt!" She gushed. "We'll have enough for the wheat crops _and_ taxes this year!" She smiled.

My father laughed heartily. "Well, we'll have to see, my dearest Rosalynn," he replied. "You know how the Creators can change things in the blink of an eye."

* * *

I sit up on the beach, my heart sinking into my stomach. "No..." I muse, scrambling to my feet. "No, no, no!" I yell. "Mom! Dad!" I call.

I am all alone on the shoreline. The sun was only just rising, and its golden light soon oozed onto the white sand.

"I guess I'm the last of my people," I say to myself. "The very last Steve." I gulp at the thought.

* * *

The next minute, I saw people running through the streets in a panic. I looked at my father, frightened. My father looked at my mother, and got up from the table, opening the door and running out in front of a man, who skidded to a stop. His face was pale with fear.

"Run!" He cried, but my father looked at him like he was mad.

"What are you talking about?" My father asked.

"Just run!" The man yelled, and ran past him. My father looked up to the temple where we prayed to the gods, and he, too, turned white as a skeleton.

He ran inside, and grabbed the sword that hung on the wall. "Run." He said. "Run for the shipyard," he looked at my mother. "I'll meet you both there. It's time to leave this place."

My mother nodded, her eyes wide, and she grabbed my hand and ran with me to the shipyard. I looked back, and what I saw horrified me.

* * *

I punch at the logs of the trees like I had seen my father do many a time, and fashion them into planks and sticks. I had to start my home soon, I knew, as the day would go by quicker than you'd expect it to. The planks I make into a workbench, and I set to work crafting my makeshift tools.

I chop at another tree with the wooden axe, and my eyes spy a cave nearby. I quickly make a pickaxe from the planks and sticks, and jog toward the cave eagerly.

* * *

I saw a man, who had a cyan tunic, blue trousers and gray boots on, and his eyes were glowing bright white. His head twitched at strange angles, and he held a blue sword in his hand, like the one the King owned. I saw him teleport from the spot he was at and plunge the blade into the bodies of those who surrounded him. He whirled around, and with the most utmost ease, he sliced into the soldiers that held their bows at the ready, arrows nocked and ready to fire.

It was the man we had all thought we could hide from: Him.

* * *

I plunge my pickaxe into the hard rock before me, and two pieces of dark coal fall out of it, along with a glowing yellow orb that zips towards me. It glowed as it entered my person, and I feel some renewed strength. I drive the head of the pickaxe deeper into the stone, and it yields three pieces of the dark mineral that would serve as my warmth for the night.

I had made a small house not too far away, with my workbench, bed and a furnace that I'd created before I ventured out any further. I'd seen some pigs and cattle beforehand, and had gutted them with the stone blade I'd created, taking their insides to cook up later.

"Good Notch," I mutter, looking up at the sky when I come out of the hole I'd just dug. I still couldn't believe I am the last of my kind. It all feels so…unreal. It feels as though someone has taken a piece of my own body, and just left the space empty. I feel hollow, but I know I have to get back to my home. This is the time when the creatures of the night come out of hiding, after all.

* * *

The man is the one we feared, the blight of our race. His name before is not known, but his name now is infamous: Herobrine. He is the one we had tried to escape, but to no avail. He still finds us, and he instills terror in all of our people.

My mother and and I got to the shipyard, and we climbed aboard a large boat. I saw my father briefly in the fight against the man. He, of all, of the people in the quaint, quiet village we lived in, swung at the man with a sword of the same blue hue. The man whirled and locked blades with my father, and they exchanged fierce looks towards each other. The man overpowered my father, knocking him back onto the ground, and moved to stab the blade into my father's chest.

My father rolled to the side, and scrambled to his feet, sword in hand. He swung the blade once more, but the man had already bounced back. They locked their blades again, but my father was fast, as old as he was, and knocked the man's legs from underneath him. The man fell onto the cold, hard stone, his sword clattering to the side. My father put a foot on the man's chest, and slowly raised the sword.

"This is where it ends, you son of a Witch!" he cried.

* * *

The first night isn't too bad. I'm able to make a fire in the furnace, which keeps me warm most of the night. I hear groans of Zombies and the rattling of Skeleton archers from the days of old outside my small shack, but nothing much else, to say the least. I sleep well and get up in the morning when the sun is just risen enough so that there are no hostile creatures to be wary of other than Creepers, which blow up when in range of our kind.

The fire from the furnace is long gone out now, and I look out the windows of my small shack at the landscape before me. It's plains with jungle across the river to the west, and a desert to the east. The north is mountainous, and the south seems to be some sort of large forest of birch trees.

* * *

Suddenly, a loud roar shook the air. A dragon, black with purple eyes and spines, flew over and landed on the temple. My father looked up, and the man grabbed his sword and struck my father in the leg. My father cried out, and my mother gasped.

"Geralt!" she screamed. "No!"

I watched as my father's leg crumpled beneath him. He looked up at the man, and pleaded with him to spare his life. The man took his sword, and looked at it curiously. The man plunged the sword deep into my father's chest, and we heard the dragon roar once again. My father's face was slack, and his body disintegrated as small pieces flew up into the sky and disappeared. The man looked up at me with his white eyes, and the dragon threw a breath of fire towards us all. We ducked as the captains called for the anchors to be hoisted up.

The boats took off, and we were soon far away from our home. I couldn't get the image of my father out of my head, nor could I understand what had just happened. The dragon chased after us, and smashed into one of the ships, splintering it into pieces. I looked away and heard a terrified squeak behind me. I turned, and saw Alex. I looked at my mother, nodded to her, and went to Alex's side, hugging her. She clung to me, gripping my tunic with her soft, small hands.

"S-Steve?" She peeped, looking up at me.

I nodded. "Yes?" I tilted my head.

"If we don't make it through this," she said softly, her eyes wide with fear. "I just want you to know that I've always lov-"

She was cut off by a loud crash, and the ship rocked to the side, knocking all of us overboard. I felt my mouth fill with the briny water and quickly swam to the surface, coughing up the seawater and breathing in a large gulp of air.

* * *

I finally finish my new house by putting the doors up. The small shack is now a house for more than just myself. It's taken longer than I expected for its construction (more than two whole days), but it's better than having a shack made of wooden planks and dirt, eh?

I sigh, looking up at the second story sadly. No one else around to share this home with. I decide to look through my books I've gotten from tradesmen nearby, the big-nosed ones. They seem to also build their homes.

I suddenly hear a thud against one of the walls. I jump at the sound, and go around to see what's made it. I see ginger hair and a green tunic that I know very well.

* * *

Alex came up to the surface, as well, and coughed at the salty water that had filled her mouth. She looked around, and more people eventually came up as well, all coughing and in a knot about where to go. We all climbed onto a large piece of the boat that was floating on the waves.

Alex sighed. "Oh, Notch," she mumbled. "Why is this happening?"

I pulled an arm around her, and hugged her close. "I don't know, Alex," I replied as she clung to me. "I'm not sure whether the gods are angry at us or not. It might just a string of bad luck."

Alex shivered, and I noticed that the dragon was gone. Gone with its rider, Herobrine. Only a handful of our people survived the wreck. The rest died from starvation, dehydration, or sleeping too close to the edge of the piece of wreckage, where they were sitting chickens before an ocelot. I don't remember anything after that.

* * *

"Alex?" I ask as I walk towards her. I must be dreaming.

She turns, holding her head, and gasps. "Steve!"

I'm not the only one left! I run up to her and hug her tightly. She laughs at my reaction, hugging me back.

"Oh Notch, thank the gods you're alright!" she whispers. "I thought you were dead!"

I nod. "Same here." I reply. "I thought I'd lost you...Have you seen any of the others?" She shakes her head, and my heart seems to sink to the bottom of my gut.

She smiles a bit. "Hey, don't look so down," she says, squeezing my hand. "I found a village not too far from here full of the tradesmen like they had back home."

I nod. "Yep," I say. "You want to go over and see what they have to trade?"

She shrugs. "Sure, I suppose. You have any emeralds?"

I chuckle. "Well, I've been mining for days now, so I've got a few. I'll bring some other things in case we can get some more from that."

She takes my hand, and we walk off towards the village as the sun begins to set. Perhaps Herobrine and the dragon will be the least of our troubles.

**-=THE END=-**


End file.
